The Missus
by Vicky-V
Summary: An alternate universe where Frieza never showed up. Yet Zarbon has still managed to find his way to Vegetasei and has apparently got together with Raditz. Collection of oneshots. RaditzxZarbon pairing with KakarottxTurles sneaking in. AU, shounenai.
1. The Missus

**What this is:**

- A collection of oneshots about this AU verse where Frieza never turned up, but Zarbon has still come across Vegetasei. His background concerning this will be up sooner or later.

**What this is not:**

- Written in order. There will be a note at the top of each chapter should I wish to point out if it related to another story within this collection.

- A chaptered fanfiction. Rather a collection of oneshots about the same AU verse.

- Updated regularly. It shall be when I think of and write a new idea.

- Serious business.

--

**The Missus**

When Kakarott had been ordered by his father to accompany his brother to work in order to pay for the very expensive set of training weights he had broken, he had seen it. Something that would surely come in handy for blackmailing Raditz later, should the need ever arise.

Raditz and his work partner, Nappa, were working to clear a deep gorge that the Saiyans favoured for having their young scale the steep walls of as part of their training. It had been half buried after a recent earthquake, (a constant bother in this particular area), and needed clearing. That was where Raditz, Nappa and now Kakarott came in.

After three hours of toiling and sweating, (ki could not be used, or the situation may be made worse), the scouter sat on an out-of-the-way boulder started beeping.

"What's that?" Kakarott asked, standing and going to inspect it, finding that it displayed a rather large power level.

Nappa glanced at the number it displayed and said, rather casually, "well, well, it's the missus. Been a while."

"The who?"

Kakarott's question was answered when a dot appeared in the sky and quickly began to grow larger. There was no doubt in Kakarott's mind that the person who landed must be this 'missus'. He was of a breed of people not often seen much where they lived, (as not many others liked to live around the rather destructive race that were the Saiyans), with very distinctive green hair and skin. His long hair was pulled back into a neat braid and he wore odd jewellery across his forehead, along with earrings hanging from what could be seen from his ears. It was rather easy to see where he had earned the nickname.

"Hey genius!" the visitor called to Raditz, completely ignoring the two other Saiyans. He held up a brown paper bag. "You forgot this again."

"Who is that?" Kakarott said quietly to Nappa.

"I told you," Nappa replied. "That's the missus. But don't you dare let him hear you call him that. He's a lot fiercer than he looks. I've still got the scars."

"Then tell me his name."

"His name is Zarbon. He's an arrogant asshole, and your brother is absolutely crazy about him. You're his family and you didn't know?"

"No." Kakarott watched in utter disbelief at this news. Zarbon was telling Raditz something about not being "some goddamn housewife", and his brother appeared to have lost the power of speech.

"Him?" Kakarott asked. He blinked hard, hoping that his now apparently mute brother would vanish to be replaced with the one who surely wouldn't just stand there and take such a tongue-lashing.

"I don't completely believe it either," Nappa shook his head as he picked up another boulder. "I'm still trying to figure out how he managed to get such a high-class guy. And I'd get back to work, unless you want him to snap at you too."

"Okay," Kakarott said, but he didn't budge. Not until Zarbon turned his head and their eyes met for a second.

--

"Who's the new kid?" Zarbon nodded towards Kakarott as the Saiyan hurriedly returned to his task.

"My little brother," Raditz said, glad to be given an opening to speak again. "He's working here to pay for an expensive set of training weights he broke."

"I see," Zarbon turned a little more to get a better view of him. "Not a bad looker is he?"

Raditz frowned, his tail thrashing at his thighs. Zarbon noticed and rolled his eyes.

"Every time. You're far too easy."

"Anything else now that you've given me my lunch and my lecture?" Raditz said as he looked to change the subject and, hopefully, get back to work.

"Just that you might be hanging around outside for a bit at the end of the day. Dodoria is finally moving out of his mother's basement and I'm helping him shift some stuff."

"Why not give me the key?"

Zarbon raised an eyebrow. "If you keep forgetting your lunch, why would I give you the key? Hang out in the bar with Nappa for a while or beat the living hell out of each other. Whatever you Saiyans do. But if you turn up looking like you're going to drip blood everywhere, you'll be sleeping outside anyway. You decide how to entertain yourself."

"Yes dear," Raditz murmured as Zarbon turned to leave.

Zarbon heard him, but made no response. He would get him later.

_**END**_


	2. Jealous

**Pairing:** RaditzxZarbon

**Warning:** Shounen-ai, AU.

**Notes:** Follows 'The Missus' so it seemed an idea to make it a separate chapter on this fic, seeing as it does make references to it.

**Jealous**

Wolf whistles accompanied the sound of the door closing and Raditz glanced over his shoulder, feeling a slight sense of confusion. As far as he knew, Nappa had just left and would have passed through the door at that moment.

He caught a brief flash of Nappa's back through the window. The one who had just come through the doorway was Zarbon. He strode towards Raditz, paying the ogling group of drinking Saiyans no attention.

As soon as Zarbon sat where Nappa had been beside Raditz, he could see the Saiyan growling at the group, glaring at them through the corners of his eyes.

"Don't be so jealous. It's nice to see that Saiyans are developing some taste."

"What are you doing here?" asked Raditz, wanting to get off the subject as fast as he could. "You don't usually come to this place."

"I'm all done with Dodoria. He, however, has no taste at all. You'd think that years of being my comrade might have taught him some."

"Guess so," Raditz shrugged.

Zarbon watched Raditz, noting that he hadn't actually looked at him since he had sat down beside him. His tail was wrapped around his waist, the slight wrinkles in his shirt suggesting that it was tighter than usual. The tip twitched every now and again. "I didn't know Saiyans became jealous lovers."

"Hm?" That made Raditz look up at him, which was something.

"I haven't seen you this moody since I met Cooler's new right-hand man."

"I'm not moody," Raditz muttered.

"You don't show it that much," said Zarbon. "But I've definitely seen this in you before. And all I did was make a passing comment about your brother."

Raditz grunted. Resting in head in his palm, leaning his elbow on the bar, he turned back to his drink. "You know, Nappa often asks me how I managed to get a guy like you. I never know what to tell him."

"Dodoria asks me why I settled for a guy like you. I'm not sure what to tell him either."

Raditz just grunted again.

"Saiyan," Zarbon sighed and rolled his eyes. "You've got no reason to be jealous. I always appreciate a bit of eye candy. But, just in case you didn't notice, it's always you I go back with."

There was a brief pause.

"Suppose so."

"If I wasn't serious I would have gone off with Sauza, or your brother, or anyone a long time ago. Yet, here I am, in a place I'm not very fond of because I knew you'd be here. You weren't waiting outside and you know better than to try and break my door. So I came here. Understand what I'm saying?"

Raditz looked at him again. Zarbon watched as the penny seemed to drop within the Saiyan's mind.

"Yeah."

Raditz's body language became more relaxed, yet there was still an air of agitation around him. That, however, Zarbon understood. Pride was a very big thing to Saiyans, and Zarbon knew that he had just left a dent in it.

"Drink up," he said, deciding not to press on the pride thing this time. "I'd like to get out of here this side of midnight."

"Why hurry?" Raditz smiled. "You know, you're not the only one who likes something pleasant to the eye."

Zarbon felt something brush against his leg. Looking down, he saw that Raditz's tail had come away from his waist and was now wrapping itself around his calf.

Raditz gestured towards the group of Saiyans who had wolf-whistled when Zarbon had walked in. "Just so they know."

_**END**_


	3. Hints of a Dare

**Note:** As I'm thinking up more ideas concerning this particular AU, there have been some changes. I have decided to keep posting stories about this AU here as some form of collection. Please see chapter 1 for a few more details.

--

**Pairing:** ZarbonxRaditz, some TurlesxKakarott and KakarottxChiChi

**Warning:** AU, shounen-ai.

**Word Count:** 559

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with the characters used in this non-profit fanfiction. All events similar to real life are pure coincidence.

--

**Hints of a Dare**

It was one of those mornings where Zarbon was questioning why he stayed on a planet that was mostly populated by Saiyans. They continued to demonstrate how good they were at frustrating him.

The latest annoyance came in the form of Raditz's younger brother, Kakarott, stretched out and still asleep in a pile of a few spare blankets on the floor. He had appeared last night, wanting to be taken in. Zarbon had left Raditz to deal with it, feeling a very minimal amount of interest regarding the situation, but had overheard enough to know why he was there.

It seemed that Kakarott had been fooling around with a Saiyan who went by the name of Turles. His mate, ChiChi, a woman whose high temper and determined attitude had proved to be very useful in surviving life on Vegetasei, hadn't taken kindly to the news. As she was making the preparations to return to her own planet, Kakarott had decided to make himself scarce.

And so Zarbon had found himself standing near the still-sleeping Saiyan in the morning, wondering why he had even opened the door in the first place.

Saiyans, hostile and prejudice towards other races as they were, apparently had very strong family bonds. And, somehow, Zarbon had found himself giving into that and allowing Kakarott to stay with them for a little while. And Zarbon was going to make sure that it was only a little while. According to the younger Saiyan, he had gone to Raditz instead of his father due to the fact of the two brothers having interests outside their own race.

"Strange he would do that," Raditz commented, breaking the silence. "You'd think he would be too scared of the woman for a start."

"If I recall correctly, from what you tell me, the idiot wasn't too sure on the concept of marriage this woman was proposing. Of course he isn't going to understand the term adultery too well."

"Him going to someone else isn't an uncommon thing in Saiyans altogether," Raditz shrugged. "You'll often hear of some having more than one partner at once. My father did."

Zarbon's eyebrows had risen. "That Toma Saiyan?"

"Him and my mother, yeah," Raditz nodded. "The difference in Kakarott's case is that his mate didn't know about it. The number of people and genders vary a lot. Depends upon the individual Saiyan, I suppose."

Zarbon quickly decided that he wouldn't voice what a surprise this news turned out to be. But he guessed that he'd probably be viewing some things a lot differently when it came to him stepping out of the door. As he quickly searched for some sort of reply, he found it right in front of his eyes. Or partly, at least. Suddenly Zarbon found himself not feeling as annoyed at the situation now that he could see where he might get some fun from it.

"What about you? If it isn't an unusual thing in you Saiyans, ever seen something else you liked?" He nodded towards Raditz's sleeping brother for effect. "We've got a free one right here."

Raditz looked over to Kakarott to ensure that he was still asleep before replying. "There are quite a few things you've somehow convinced me to do. Having a threesome with my brother won't be one of them."

Zarbon smirked. "Is that a challenge?"

_**END**_


	4. Whipped

**Pairing:** ZarbonxRaditz

**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** Raditz realises that, despite his best efforts, he's become his father. Damn.

**Word Count:** 405

**Notes:** Comes after Hints of a Dare (chapter 3). Nothing serious. Just a scene in my head I wanted to get out.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with the characters used in this non-profit fanfiction. All events similar to real life are purely coincidental.

--

**Whipped**

As a Saiyan warrior with such a high power, Raditz really can't help but wake up when he hears the sound of footsteps which aren't usually there. But he quickly recognises the way they drag a little across the floor and allows sleep to start wrapping itself around him again.

A few moments later he feels a weight settle itself beside him. The springs of the mattress sigh softly and so does Zarbon as he pushes himself into Raditz's hair. There's a strong scent of blood which still lingers around him and rushes up the Saiyan's nose to makes his head tingle. It's been a harsh battle and the fact Zarbon is still alive and breathing means he was the victor.

"I notice your brother is still hanging around," Zarbon says, his voice heavy due to his tired state. "And he's going to be leaving soon as well."

Raditz feels himself smirk. "What happened to your polygamy plans?"

"He's deliberately resisting my charms and that annoys me. So he can hide out with the Saiyan he's actually fucking."

The smirk on Raditz's face widens. Curses are a part language Zarbon usually considers himself above. His level of exhaustion is high enough for Zarbon to not wash the remaining blood from his body and hair. And that annoys him.

Considering Zarbon's highly irate state, Raditz really isn't sure why he utters a phrase which is usually only reserved for when he knows the other is miles beyond hearing range.

"Yes dear."

He feels Zarbon twitch against him, but apparently he is too tired to take any action.

Just as Raditz suddenly realises his shoulders are tense and relaxes them, he feels Zarbon reach over to grip him and roll him onto his stomach. There's more creaking of mattress springs and rustling of sheets, then Zarbon settles himself, stretched over Raditz's back with his head resting in his thick hair to use as a rather effective pillow.

After a long and difficult mission, Zarbon has been known to sleep for a day or more. So Raditz knows he isn't going to meet Nappa for some brutal training to help prepare for his own upcoming mission when the sun rises. Waking Zarbon up at this point and annoying him even further just isn't worth it.

Raditz frowns as he is filled with the suspicion that he is well and truly, as his father would often put it, whipped.

_**END**_


	5. Observation

**Pairing:** ZarbonxRaditz, TurlesxKakarott

**Rating:** PG

**Warning:** Shounen-ai, AU

**Summary:** It's one of those great mysteries of the universe. How do they stay together anyway?

**Notes:** Comes after Whipped (chapter 4)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

---

**Observation**

Turles was surprised to find Kakarott sat upon the rooftops, hunched over with his chin resting upon his arms, which were folded over his knees. He was staring down at something on the ground with a thoughtful frown. It was easy to identify his source of interest. Any being would have to be nothing short of dead inot/i to notice the very fearsome disagreement going on between Raditz and Zarbon in broad daylight. Turles landed half a step behind Kakarott before he raised an eyebrow and asked; "how's the show?"

Kakarott glanced up at him before looking back to the noisy scene below. "I don't watch for the fun of it. I'm trying to figure something out."

"What?"

"You look down at them now and try to tell me how they stay together. What you're seeing isn't really anything unusual."

Turles shrugged. "What Saiyan relationship doesn't go a bit sour from time to time? Do I need to remind you of your very irace/i Kakarott? Fights happen. I think that Earth woman got to you a bit too much."

Kakarott glared at Turles. "Fights happen. But not like itheirs/i they don't."

"No brainer, then. They both must be really great at sex. Take one look at Zarbon and you can see why Raditz hangs around. As for Zarbon himself, perhaps he harbours some sort of thing for tails."

"Tails?" Kakarott gave him a sceptical look.

Turles grinned, unwinding his tail from around his waist and waving it before Kakarott's face. "Don't tell me iyou/i wouldn't be doing a few things if you had the chance. That Zarbon guy is attractive, that goes without saying, but he probably looks even better with a bit of sweat on his forehead, his mouth open and --"

"-- I ireally/i don't want to know iexactly/i what him and my brother are doing!"

"Just my guess." Turles shrugged and returned his tail to how it usually hung around his waist. "If you ask me, the mystery is how they got together in the first place, never mind why they stick around."

"That's a point," Kakarott mumbled into his elbows. "Zarbon is forever complaining about us. Don't know why he doesn't just leave if that's the case."

Below them, it appeared Zarbon had had the final word. He spun on his heel and went storming back inside, leaving the outside world in sudden peace.

Raditz went up to the door, opened it and disappeared inside.

Seconds later, Raditz flew back out again. Even from where they were quite a few feet away, both Kakarott and Turles could see that his cheek was a lot larger and a much darker shade of purple than it had been a few moments ago.

"Whatever they see in each other and whatever keeps them together is clearly one of those universal mysteries which no being was meant to know the answer to," Turles concluded. "How long would you have been sitting here before I told you that?"

Kakarott just shrugged. But Turles noticed how his shoulders didn't relax and how the hairs on his tail were more puffed with irritation than they had been.

"Are you pissed just because I came and answered your solution-less question?" Turles said. "Or is this really because you're still sulking about how she left and took your son with her?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb." Turles kicked Kakarott in the backside. Not nearly with enough force to shift him, but he made sure the other Saiyan was still able to feel it. "That Earth woman you were shacked up with for a while. What was her name? FiFi?"

"ChiChi."

"Yeah. But now she's gone. So is your little son. Hey, with his human blood, who knows how much of a chance he would've had around here. You're pissed off about that and pissed off because their relationship seems worse yet there's still some sort of spark there."

Kakarott twisted his body to glare up at Turles again. "Since when did you have the nerve to know about my personal business?"

"I'm the Saiyan who caused your personal business to kick off, I believe. So, in a way, it's my business as well."

Kakarott just frowned and turned back to glare at where his brother was standing. Raditz was stalking up and down a few paces at a time like a caged animal, apparently plotting how he might get through his own front door with minimal injury.

"Sulking, Kakarott?" Turles said, digging the toe of his boot into Kakarott's backside once again. "Truth bites, doesn't it? But what do you want to act like a human and brood there for? Come and level a few mountains with me or something."

Kakarott continued to glare down at the ground.

"Raditz'll probably be going to do that too in a while," Turles went on. "I know he has isome/i intelligence and he's probably using it to realise it'll be best to get lost for a while until Zarbon cools down. And that will take a long time."

Kakarott snorted.

"Do you really want to keep running the risk of Zarbon coming out and seeing you? They've been broadcasting their disagreement, but I'm guessing he's not the sort of guy who would consider that when it comes to kicking your moody ass. Heaven forbid anything gets on the wrong side of The Missus."

Kakarott's mouth hung open in surprise. "Did Nappa tell you about that as well?"

Turles grinned. "I think you'll find more Saiyans know about it than you'd think. So far most of them have been wise enough not to use that name while Zarbon is within hearing range."

---

Hours later, after dusk had fallen, Raditz was so wrapped up in trying to clean and dress his wounds in the dark and hissing in discomfort, he didn't hear Zarbon approaching until he was a few feet away and said;

"You're a iSaiyan/i and you can't wrap a few bandages?"

Raditz looked up and glared at him. "Then why don't you turn on the lights now you know I'm here?"

Zarbon didn't. Instead he went and sat besides Raditz, slapping his hands away so he may take over dressing the various wounds, which had been obtained through frustrated training.

"I can look after my own injuries," Raditz grumbled.

"You'll do what your missus tells you," Zarbon said, looking up in time to see Raditz's surprised expression before the Saiyan snorted and turned his face away. "I do more with my ears than hang jewellery on them."

"There goes that fun," Raditz muttered, still facing away and glaring out of the window which looked out to where he knew Kakarott and Turles had been a few hours earlier. He had seen them fly away before giving up himself and going to vent his frustrations upon the wilderness.

"I think you'd be surprised if you knew how long I've been aware of that little nickname," said Zarbon. "You Saiyans will just have to be more careful about when you use it."

"No point if you're not pissed about it."

"I am." Zarbon tightened a bandage more than was needed to emphasise his point. "But I imagine your king wouldn't appreciate it if I put half his forces out of action."

"Like you care what he thinks."

"Again, you'd be surprised. He'll look for any excuse to get me off this planet."

"Which'll be a real tragedy for you, I'm sure."

"Why don't you face me," said Zarbon, his voice taking on a noticeably lower tone. "And tell me whether or not I stay on this planet purely to annoy King Vegeta."

The atmosphere around them thickened and both noticed it. For a few moments, which dragged by, there was a silent stand-off. Raditz continued to glare out of the window and Zarbon held the ends of the bandages which were half-wrapped around the Saiyan's upper right arm. The only sound was the thud of Raditz's tail on the floor as it swayed in agitation.

It was ended by Zarbon pulling hard at the bandages and tying the ends in a tight knot, leaving what was left to dangle.

"All done," he said blankly as he rose and turned to leave.

When he was a step out of the doorway, Raditz called out to him.

"You don't stay just to annoy King Vegeta."

"Oh?" Zarbon turned.

"No." Raditz finally faced him, smirking. "You piss off the whole race."

Zarbon smiled. "So I haven't lost my touch."

As Zarbon left the room and his footsteps faded away, Raditz reached over and snapped off the loose ends of the bandages, knowing they would be the cause of great irritation within the hour. Even though the room was within a very dim light due to the dark evening, he could see how the bandages had been wrapped and secured. He had to admit that it wasn't a bad job.

Then Zarbon's voice came from the next room.

"Are you planning to spend all night on the floor?"

Raditz stayed where he was for a few moments, looking out of the window again and swished his tail back and fourth. After all, he couldn't let Zarbon have all the control.

But Raditz never had been good at waiting. Very quickly he could feel himself growing restless, so he shrugged and stood up.

_**END**_


	6. Stuffy

**Pairing:** ZarbonxRaditz

**Rating:** PG

**Warning:** Shounen-ai, AU

**Summary:** Even Saiyans get colds.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

---

**Stuffy**

Raditz's tail was doing what it always would when he was annoyed. It was swaying up and down, thudding heavily on the floor as it did. That thudding was the only sound in the room, where Raditz was laying on the floor with his head in Zarbon's lap. He was feeling dull and slow. His head ached and he couldn't breathe properly through his nose.

Zarbon sat, closely inspecting the thin red line inside a thermometer. The thudding caused by Raditz's tail suddenly stopped when a small "hmm" rumbled from Zarbon's throat.

"It's bad news Saiyan," Zarbon said, looking down at him. "You're not dying."

"Then what i-" Raditz suddenly stopped and looked up at Zarbon, scowling. "What's that meant to mean, I'm not dying?"

"Making sure you're paying attention," said Zarbon. "It's just a cold. Almost every single race in existence gets them. Within a day or so, it'll have passed through your system. You'll be back causing chaos and destruction before you know it."

"Saiyans don't get sick," Raditz grumbled.

"Evidentially, you do." Zarbon looked back at the small red line. "This thing has very primitive technology, but it still does what it was designed to and you display all the basic symptoms. I've got to go out on a job tomorrow and should be back within two days. By that time, you'll be cured. You've just got to rest, keep up the fluids, the usual. Alcohol doesn't count as a fluid," he added quickly.

"You're running off and leaving me like this huh?" Raditz shot him an accusing glare.

"This one is a high-profile job, which means a big payment for me at the end. If you _really_ feel as though your life is at so much risk, I can see if your mother or perhaps even Nappa can come and baby-sit you until I'm back."

Raditz's frown darkened.

"Or are you being so awkward because of me?" Zarbon continued. "It's child's play for me. That's why I get these sorts of jobs."

"Why would I worry after you?" Raditz muttered. "This thing makes me feel weak."

"It is a fairly bad cold if it gets to a Saiyan like this. Must be a strongly mutated strand," Zarbon said, picking back some of Raditz's hair which had fallen into his face. "But, because you're a Saiyan, your body will be able to beat it easily." He started to twist some of Raditz's hair around his finger, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps I should get someone to watch you and make sure you do rest like I told you to."

"I'll do the damn resting." Raditz rolled his eyes before he looked at Zarbon with an expectant smirk. "But you're not leaving for a few hours, right? A Saiyan expects something in return for his promise."

Zarbon looked unimpressed. "Nice try, Saiyan, but I also know how catching colds are. I imagine it's not easy to kill someone when you're spending most of your time sniffing and sneezing. Frankly, you're lucky I'm letting you lounge on my lap like this."

Raditz facial expression dropped from a smirk back to a frown. "Damn colds."

_**END**_


	7. Wager

**Characters:** Jeice, Zarbon, Raditz

**Rating:** PG

**Warning:** Shounen-ai, AU

**Summary:** The source of Zarbon's frustrations isn't only limited to Saiyans, which he is horribly reminded of during one of Jeice's break-ins.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

Set after Whipped (chapter 4).

---

**Wager**

Oddly, the first thing which annoyed Zarbon was not being able to remember what exactly had woken him up. But it had definitely been something because he knew he wasn't the sort to just wake up for no reason. A quick check beside him showed that Raditz was still, so it was nothing to do with him. For a moment he was suspicious, knowing that any unusual noise would surely wake Raditz as well.

Then, just as Zarbon began to frown, he heard it again. There was a hiss, so faint that if there had been another noise, no matter how slight, it would have covered it. Within a second Zarbon's eyes had narrowed and he was on the move to find out what exactly had woken him. His feet moved silently over the floor towards the small disturbance, which he had pinpointed to the bathroom, wondering what exactly he should do first to the idiot who thought it was a good idea to break into _his_ home at such an hour which interrupted his beauty sleep.

Only to have all that deflate out of him when he turned the corner, into the light which was spilling out of the room, and saw who said idiot was. Jeice was sat on the floor with various medical supplies scattered around him, currently applying a cotton bud soaked with something Zarbon hoped would sting to a wound on his arm.

"Jeice," Zarbon said, his voice heavy with annoyance. "To what do I owe this irritation?"

"Just need a little patch job," Jeice said, looking up at Zarbon briefly before going back to the task of cleaning his wounds. "I was only a few planets over and I know you've always got a few supplies."

"Whatever it is, it better be fatal."

"Nah, just got caught with something at the last moment. Sneaky bastard. Well, sneaky dead bastard now." Jeice peered down at the wound he had been dabbing. "Deeper than I thought."

"Maybe it's poisoned," Zarbon said, making absolutely no effort to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

"Oh, and you owe me five hundred."

"What?" Zarbon's smile dropped and he started to think hard and fast. He had always been very careful to never ever find himself in a position where he owed Jeice money. To his best recollection, he had always kept that up and couldn't possibly think where he had slipped. He looked hard at Jeice, who had tossed the cotton bud aside and was wrapping a bandage around the cuts on his arm. Suspicion was starting to settle in and itch at him. "Why?"

"Because I had no idea Saiyans, of all beings, would end up being your thing," said Jeice, looking at Zarbon in a way which suggested he thought the answer was perfectly obvious.

"Saiyan." Zarbon corrected. "_A_ Saiyan. _One_. I don't intend on making rounds."

"Doesn't matter how many. The point is I lost the bet and you owe me as compensation."

"Compensation!" Zarbon spat out the word. "Jeice, of all the times you've ever tried to trick me out of my money, this is by far the most pathetic. It's not my concern that you lost a stupid be- why are you betting on me?"

Jeice shrugged. "Passes some time."

"You're not getting any money off me."

"You always were a damn tightwad," Jeice rolled his eyes, tied the ends of the bandages and snapped off the excess. Then he looked up at Zarbon with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow. "I'm guessing that's what attracts the Saiyan to you, right?"

Zarbon was sourly disappointed that looks couldn't actually kill. "Don't try and tidy up," he growled. "I'll see to it later. And when I get to it I don't want to find you still here. I've only just got rid of the last free-loader. Give another patch job to whatever you broke to get in here. _Don't_ try and fix it. _I_ will fix it."

"Whatever. You've got some severe trust issues."

"I have issues with _you_."

"And no sense of humour either."

With no interest in getting drawn further into any sort of banter with Jeice, Zarbon gave up.

"When I wake up I want you gone."

Zarbon left without waiting for any response, feeling tired and heavy, just as he often did when coming away from Jeice's attempts to scam him. He flopped back onto his bed, not bothering to pull anything over himself. After a moment of listening to the small noises which were Jeice still hanging around, he muttered; "I need to think of a way to get him out of here."

"'nother freeloader, eh?" Raditz replied.

So he _was_ awake.

"I know Jeice and I know when he lies to me," Zarbon said. "His lips move. And it'll only be because he knows it annoys me."

"Why haven't you tried reverse psychology?"

"Because I'm not a child! Either get some _good_ ideas or go back to pretending to be asleep."

Raditz's response was to stretch his tail out and wrap it around Zarbon's leg, twitching the tip against his inner thigh.

Zarbon raised his eyebrows. "That could work."

_**END**_


	8. Delivery

**Characters:** Zarbon, Raditz, Kakarott, ChiChi, OC

**Rating:** PG

**Warning:** AU, shounen-ai

**Summary:** Gohan is born into the world. While that happens, Kakarott is trying not to panic, Raditz appears to be not helping at all and Zarbon won't be sleeping very well for a while.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

Set after Jealous (chapter 2).

---

**Delivery**

Zarbon considered himself very good at handling situations as they came. His living was mostly earned through killing any being a client asked, considering they could provide the correct payment of course. One of the things which made the job interesting was that targets wouldn't always just stand there nicely and allow a hole to be shot through their chest. In fact, if they tried to fight back it made things that much more fun. He prided himself on always being able to come up with something.

But on this occasion he was drawing a complete blank and it was probably something to do with the fact he wouldn't be allowed to kill anything. Except, perhaps, Raditz for allowing the situation to come through his door but that would have to wait until how he felt after regaining all his senses.

The only thing he was definitely sure of was being extremely glad his body couldn't do _That_.

_That_ being carrying a child for many months, all the while growing larger and larger along with various unpleasant side-effects. When it got tired of doing so, it would push out the child in a very painful manner.

ChiChi's body, on the other hand, could do _That_. And it was. On _his_ floor.

They had been on their way to the hospital, or so a very sceptical Zarbon was been told. But luck clearly wasn't with any of them. For a start, the pain of ChiChi's contractions had become so intense and so close together she had become completely convinced she would give birth in mid-air. Raditz had been much closer than trained medical professionals, and that was where Kakarott and ChiChi ended up. Zarbon had taken one look at Kakarott, then Raditz, and realised it was actually all ChiChi's command. He had taken a look at her through his scouter before and the Earth woman had a power level which was practically non-existent but, somehow, she still managed to command authority and Zarbon was still trying to work out exactly how she did so.

It was probably a natural talent, he thought. Because she was still commanding it whilst on her back with her legs spread, sweating heavily and screaming in pain. Kakarott knelt by her side, looking extremely nervous, which was very unnatural for a Saiyan. Raditz had shrunk back, just as Zarbon had, hoping that perhaps they would decide they could make it to the hospital after all and not give birth on the floor.

Then Kakarott opened his big mouth and asked ChiChi if there was "anything we", (Zarbon felt himself bristle - somehow - at the use of the word "we"), "can do?"

"Someone needs to deliver my baby!" ChiChi cried and Kakarott began to move. But was brought to an abrupt halt when ChiChi grabbed him by the shoulder. "Not you!" she shouted, her tone suddenly changing to one of such rage there was no doubt between the two Saiyan brothers she would have made King Vegeta himself quiver. "You are to stay up by my head from now on!" ChiChi then turned her eyes to Zarbon, who was busy eyeing the door in a rather calculating and very hopeful manner. "You! Zarbon, isn't it? Please. You've got to help deliver my baby!"

Zarbon's shoulders stiffened and he reluctantly looked round to where ChiChi was laying on the floor with her knees up and parted. Kakarott was by her side, looking very tense and wincing under the grip ChiChi had on his hand. Raditz hovered behind them, hoping, like Zarbon had, that perhaps he wouldn't be noticed.

"No," Zarbon said. "It's Kakarott's responsibility."

"He is never coming near me ever again!" ChiChi said, flashing another fearsome glare in Kakarott's direction.

"Raditz then."

Raditz twitched.

"No!" ChiChi wailed. "I don't want any male Saiyans near me! Look what they've done to me!"

Kakarott looked as though he was thinking about how the current situation wasn't completely down to him. But, wisely, he didn't voice such opinions.

"Please!" ChiChi pleaded. "We should be sticking together! We're both in this Saiyan thi-aaaaaaargh!"

ChiChi threw her head back as she screamed in pain. Kakarott stiffened and bit his lip hard as she gripped his hand tightly and her fingernails drew small amounts of blood.

Zarbon took another look at how some of her hair was mattered against her heavily sweating forehead and the way her toes curled in agony.

"There is no way-"

"Just do it!"

ChiChi's shout seemed to linger in the room for a few moments but otherwise there was complete silence. Then Zarbon moved forward. Because he just couldn't shake the feeling that Very Bad Things would happen to him should he attempt to do anything but follow the woman's orders. As ChiChi started to breathe heavily again and whimper about how the baby was almost there, Zarbon felt dread settle itself heavily within his gut as he suddenly became aware that he had absolutely no idea what to do.

He knelt down between ChiChi's legs, convinced that he would never feel so awkward or humiliated again in his entire life, and reluctantly looked down. His first mistake as a forced midwife was to wince at the sight.

"Don't wince!" ChiChi cried. "Why are you wincing? What is there to wince about? Kakarott!" She turned to him, her eyes desperate. But Kakarott didn't have any answers at all. In unknowing panic, he looked to Raditz, who shrugged unhelpfully.

ChiChi shouted again and her chest heaved. "It's coming!" She cried, screwing her eyes up tightly. "The baby is coming!"

"Stop screaming and tell me what to do!" Zarbon snapped, feeling the heavy dread in his gut spread all the way up to his throat.

"Deliver my baby!"

"What exactly do you think I do? I'm an assassin, not a midwife! Not unless you want me to shoot the brat upon sight."

Zarbon quickly came to recognise his biggest mistake so far as he shrank back when ChiChi's wail made his ears hurt. He winced again when her cry started to trail off and then raised again as more birthing pains scorned up her body.

"Nice," Raditz said. "The hell did you want to say that for?"

"What?" Zarbon glared at him.

"My baby!" ChiChi wailed. "He said he's going to kill my baby!"

"He won't," Kakarott said, sounding much more nervous than a Saiyan should.

"I could easily be tempted," Zarbon said.

"If you _dare_ try," ChiChi snarled, suddenly becoming completely enraged once again. "I'll kill you with my bare hands! I'll throttle you with your own hair!"

Zarbon found he completely believed her.

ChiChi started to cry out again and her chest heaved as she tried to breathe hard. She gritted her teeth and somehow managed to grip Kakarott's hand even tighter as she growled; "I'll never forgive you for this!"

"Me neither," Zarbon muttered, his scowl becoming darker. As he shot his own glare at Kakarott, he noticed the unoccupied space behind him. Looking around, Zarbon discovered that the door was ajar and that Raditz was definitely not present anymore. "That rat!" he cried. "He's gone!"

"Who cares?" ChiChi snapped.

"He might have at least tried to get me out of this," Zarbon grumbled. "I agreed to live on this blasted planet with him!"

And they _could_ have gone to the damn hospital by now, so Zarbon made a mental note to strategically mention it to them somewhere within the near future. Just to be bitter.

"Oh God, it hurts!" ChiChi cried, screwing up her eyes. "It hurts!"

"Do you have anything you can give her?" Kakarott said, looking to Zarbon.

Zarbon's suggestion was; "knock on the head?"

ChiChi screamed her protests.

"Stop joking!" Kakarott snapped, wincing. It was the only reaction he could give to the noise considering ChiChi had a tight grip upon both his hands.

"Who's joking?"

There was the soft sound of the door widening followed by footsteps approaching them in a hurry. Zarbon turned, expecting to face Raditz so he may launch into a rant about what a horrendous bastard he was, therefore would be delivering the damn baby himself, (especially since he was actually a relative of it), whether ChiChi liked it or not.

But he stopped short.

The Saiyan he was looking at certainly resembled Raditz. But, even with all the technology Zarbon had come across, he was certain there was nothing which performed a sex change _that_ quickly. And that thought went without even considering why Raditz would suddenly fancy a sex change anyway, especially after seeing what females went through.

ChiChi appeared to recognise the stranger who had suddenly invaded Zarbon's home and was very pleased in doing so.

"You! It's you!" she said. "Please, you've gotta help! My baby! My baby is coming and they're not helping!"

"Alright, I got it," the female Saiyan said, watching as ChiChi dissolved into tears once again. "We'll get it sorted. First thing, anyone not involved needs to leave." She leaned down and took the back of Zarbon's shirt in a tight grip. "And that would be you."

At that moment, Zarbon felt most of senses take leave of his body. While he was busy feeling sour about how not even they could be bothered to try and get him out as well, he was pulled to his feet and the female Saiyan started pushing him towards the door.

He was starting to wonder if he was nearing the point where he would wake up because it just _had_ to be an incredibly strange dream. It seemed impossible to him that he could actually be in a situation where he was somehow made to try delivering a child and then find himself being manhandled by a female Saiyan.

He'd had much better days, that was for sure.

Then, suddenly, he was outside and heard the sound of the door closing behind him. He stood there for a moment, feeling stunned, and then managed to move himself to look around. As he did, he saw Raditz standing a few paces away, leaning against a wall. The sight of him caused Zarbon to snap out from most of the confused daze he was in.

"Where did you run off to?" Zarbon said, scowling again. "What did you think you were doing leaving me in there with... _that_!"

Raditz waved his scouter in the air. "I was getting your ass out of there. My mother doesn't have a sixth sense for these things you know."

The rest of the hazy confusion which had been lingering in Zarbon's mind vanished as he was suddenly able to make complete sense of the situation. Then his eyes widened. "I've just been kicked out of my own home!" He turned around and had only just started to reach for the door when a long, loud cry from ChiChi floated out from beyond the walls. Zarbon turned back again. "But, considering the circumstance, I'm willing to let it slide on this one occasion."

Raditz smirked. "I thought you might."

"But nobody is _ever_ giving birth in there again," Zarbon said, pushing down a shudder. "We're going to have to do something with that floor."

"Such as?"

Zarbon shrugged. "Blow a hole in it."

---

It had been a while since the screaming had stopped and they were still sitting outside. Zarbon supposed it was something to do with immediate post-childbirth but he was happy to remain ignorant of that particular subject.

Then the door opened and the female Saiyan, (whose name was Parsin, Zarbon had learned), poked her head around it.

"You can come back in now," she said. "All done and cleaned up."

"Finally," Raditz muttered, standing and stretching himself. As he walked back in, Zarbon followed with his eyebrows dipped down. _He_ would be the judge on whether or not things were actually 'cleaned up' and was still all in favour of blasting a hole in the floor.

Parsin looked him up and down as he entered the house. "So you're that Zarbon guy, huh?"

"Yes," he replied bluntly, passing her quickly. He didn't particularly feel up to suddenly finding himself in a meet-the-parents situation. Especially considering his right eyelids were still twitching at random.

When he got inside, his eye-line immediately went to where he had last seen ChiChi on the floor. It looked, just as Parsin had said, clean. But that was without closer inspection. ChiChi was sat on a chair, looking frazzled but none the worse for her experience. Kakarott was perched on the arm of the chair, leaning over a bundle he was holding which was making strange noises and had a thin Saiyan tail hanging from it.

He looked up as Raditz and Zarbon re-entered. He too was looking somewhat flustered and Zarbon spotted that his hands were looking red and sore with small half-moon shaped cuts lining them.

"Hey, come over here," he said. "Come meet Gohan."

"Weird name isn't it?" Raditz said, stepping forward anyway.

Zarbon opted for holding back. He knew he could try as hard as he liked to see a newborn half-breed but all he would be able to visualise was where it came from.

"It was the name of my father's best friend," said ChiChi. "I always liked it."

"So that's a Gohan, huh?" Raditz said as he peered down at the bundle. "Scrawny, ain't they?"

"And that's your uncle Raditz," Kakarott addressed the baby, who had closed his eyes for a well-earned rest after waving his fists around for a bit. "But you get used to him."

Raditz nodded towards Zarbon. "Guess that would make you auntie."

He couldn't help but shrink back at the collective glare of both Zarbon and ChiChi.

_**END**_


	9. The Talk Somewhat

**Pairing:** ZarbonxRaditz

**Rating:** PG

**Warning:** AU, shounen-ai

**Summary:** Parenting isn't going to happen for them. This is rather obvious but apparently still needs a discussion. And I use the word 'discussion' very loosely.

**Notes:** Set after Delivery. See previous chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

---

**The Talk (Somewhat)**

"I'll correct you, Saiyan," Zarbon said with his arms folded stiffly across his chest as he glared at the squashy pink form which was Gohan in Raditz's arms. "_You_ are watching the brat. _I_ am going to kill something."

Raditz raised an eyebrow. "You've got a job?"

"No," said Zarbon, unfolding his arms and moving away to pull on a jacket over the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. "The choice is me either going away or staying here. Whatever it is, something is going to die. And if I stay your chances aren't looking very good."

"Me!"

"You! Because I don't want to break any news to that woman at all, let alone that her child's life had to be cut short because his uncle is an unfortunate idiot."

Neither of them noticed that Zarbon's voice had risen. Gohan, on the other hand, did and started to cry.

"Now look what you did," Raditz grumbled, frowning down at the crying baby.

"Your nephew," Zarbon said. "Your problem."

Raditz watched Zarbon as he turned and made for the door. After Zarbon had taken a few paces, he said; "you'd make a crap mother."

"I would."

Raditz was taken aback.

"I am extremely fortunate," Zarbon continued. "In being completely unable to produce offspring in any motherly way at all. And I know that you male Saiyans," he turned, "have the same very lucky handicap. So I'd say we're pretty safe."

"I wasn't talking about us having a kid," said Raditz with his upper lip curling. Sadly, the look didn't do much for cheering up Gohan. "Geez, you're pissy enough without batshit hormones."

Zarbon's eyes flew wide open. "What makes you think _I_ would be the one producing it?"

"Producing!" Raditz roared with laughter. "You make a living through decapitation and _that_ freaked you out? You hardly looked."

"No!" Zarbon protested. "I mean producing because what your kind calls giving birth mine calls hatching."

Raditz's grin dropped. "Hatching?"

Zarbon nodded. "My kind comes from eggs."

"You're looking at me as though it should be obvious."

"From the mother's mouth."

Raditz grimaced. "No wonder you're strange."

"It's not strange. Plenty of other races do it. There's a channel which goes from-"

"-I don't need to know!"

But Zarbon appeared to be enjoying himself with the on-the-spot biology lesson. "I can draw you a diagram if you want."

"I don't want!"

At that moment, Gohan's cries became even louder, successfully diverting all attention back to him.

"You were going to kill something, I recall. If it's edible, bring it back," Raditz said, bending over Gohan in an effort to cheer him up. At that point he came to realise he didn't have any ideas on how to do it, nor did he have much knowledge in the area of general childcare to draw on. After a few moments of moving his hand about as he tried to work out what to do, Raditz found that Gohan appeared to like being softly prodded in the cheek. The baby began waving his hands around in the air, trying to catch his uncle's finger while his tail curled and waved.

"Watch it," Zarbon said. "You'll break it."

"Him," Raditz absently corrected.

"You'll break _him_. You Saiyans have never come across as knowing your own strength."

"As a race, we've made it this far. I'd say we're rather good at not crushing our young."

Gohan then moved his head just as Raditz prodded his finger back down again. The result was said finger squashing into Gohan's nose and all Raditz's work in calming the baby was instantly undone as he began to cry again. Raditz cursed sharply as he set about trying to find another way to calm Gohan down but didn't have much luck at all.

Zarbon rolled his eyes, sighing heavily, as he shrugged the jacket back off again. "I'll never know how you Saiyans managed to survive this long like that."

Raditz looked up and his eyebrows rose. "You're staying now?"

"Seems you Saiyans can't do much without being supervised by an intelligent outside source."

Raditz found that touching Gohan's tail, letting him wrap it around his fingers and then tugging as lightly as he could manage appeared to be stopping the crying.

"I'll take it that's how your kind says yes. Out of interest, how are my chances of survival looking now?"

"If I don't have to feed him, play with him, hold him or change him, very good."

"Deal."

_**END**_


	10. First Impression

**Characters:** Zarbon, Raditz main. Also King Vegeta, Dodoria and Nappa

**Rating:** PG

**Warning:** AU

**Summary:** The first meeting. It doesn't go well.

**Notes:** Starting fic.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with Dragonball Z, nor do I make any money through writing this fanfiction.

---

**First Impression**

The room King Vegeta used for carrying out his meetings in was large with high walls leading up to a domed ceiling. Large portraits of Vegetasei's past rulers lined the wall, all male and all with an expression of both authority and bloodlust. In the middle of the room was a long table with twenty chairs on each side, plus the ones at each end. As always, King Vegeta sat in the chair at the head of the table, which was noticeably larger and grander than all the others. Not wishing to shout their conversation across the room, Zarbon sat on one of the seats next to the king to read through the information given to him. From the corner of his vision he could see the two guards who had accompanied him and knew they were watching his every move. But that was something he had become perfectly used to. He kept them within his sight as well.

The papers he read through contained simple details. In particular, a name and description of the target, the co-ordinates of his last known location and what was wanted. The king wanted the target dead. Zarbon noted that the target was also a Saiyan and felt his curiosity rise slightly. He guessed it must be a runaway criminal, an exile or something else along those lines. There was supposedly a young child as well.

He finished reading through the information and looked back up at Vegeta. From the edge of his vision, he saw the guards come to attention.

"Just a locate and execute job, I take it? Simple enough."

King Vegeta nodded. His eyebrows were dipped down in a way which very much mirrored the various portraits and he too appeared to be watching Zarbon closely.

"The child as well?" Zarbon went on. "They weren't exaggerating when they spoke of how harsh you Saiyans can be."

"It is within the best interests of my kingdom."

"I'm sure," Zarbon replied quickly. He couldn't quite think of how killing one Saiyan and his child would be for the good of the whole kingdom. But he was certain that he had absolutely no interest in Saiyan politics. "But I do wish to raise the question of why you decided that my services were required in the first place?"

"I would have thought the reasons behind requiring your services were very obvious. Otherwise you would not be here."

"Oh no, I appreciate the business. But within moments of arriving on this planet I couldn't help but notice it was swarming with your guards and soldiers. And the one thing you Saiyans are known for more than your ruthlessness is your pride. So I can't help but wonder why you wouldn't send one of them instead."

"Because my soldiers have better things to do than run after and kill an exile."

Zarbon raised an eyebrow. "An exile who is apparently a threat to your kingdom if he continues to live."

Vegeta leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and focused. "I was under the impression that I would be paying you to kill whoever I pointed my finger at. Not run an interrogation."

Zarbon smiled as he met the challenge of Vegeta's gestures. "Back-watching is merely a requirement if you want to get far in my line of work. So, naturally, I happen to be very good at it."

Vegeta leaned back but didn't look convinced.

"It's not that I'm worried about it all ending in the horrible betrayal of our contract and my slaughter. None of you Saiyans are any match for me at all," Zarbon continued. "It's just it would be a shame if I had washed my hair on that day and it got singed."

"When I sign the contract you will have my word," Vegeta said.

Zarbon looked over to where the guards stood by the door. Their eyes met and the glares between them were hard. Zarbon looked them up and down, noting with amusement how their gazes followed his. Then he turned back and pulled another paper out of the small pile.

"Very well then," Zarbon said, picking up the pen which had been sitting beside the papers and scribbling his signature. "The next time you see me, both will be dead."

He pushed the paper and pen towards Vegeta but the king did not sign right away. "I assume you'll provide proof of that."

"Whatever you want."

"Their heads. Both of them."

"The usual then. Consider it done."

"Very well." Vegeta signed the contract and pushed it quickly back to Zarbon, who gathered it up along with the few other sheets of paper he had. All of them would be kept upon his possession at all times from now on. When business was completely finished, they would be burned with his own ki. The chances of Zarbon ever being caught were at the extreme minimum, but he kept the papers where he would be able to destroy them before anybody may realise he even had them.

"The only item of business we have left for now is a portion of the payment in advance," Zarbon said, inspecting Vegeta's signature as he did. When he looked up, the king's glare had become even harder. "I'm a man of my word as well, but a little incentive never hurt."

"How much?"

"Seventy-five percent minimum. And I'll take the rest when I've shown you the heads."

King Vegeta snapped his fingers and one of the guards left where he was standing by the door to come to the side of the large chair. Without a word or a glance at Zarbon, he reached inside his armour and drew out an envelope. After counting and extracting some notes from it, he handed the envelope to Vegeta. The king nodded and the guard returned to his temporary post. The envelope was handed to Zarbon, who opened it and counted the contents inside. He finished quickly, smiled, resealed the envelope and then folded his small pile of papers around it.

"Then I'll be back within a few days to swap the heads for the last twenty-five percent," Zarbon said, standing and sliding the folded papers into the inside pocket of his jacket. "After that you can do whatever you want with them. Mount them on a spike on top of the palace. Get your finest chef to cook it. Whatever you Saiyans do. I won't ask."

"My guards will escort you out," King Vegeta said, standing from his chair with his upper lip curled in displeasure.

"I can remember where the door-"

"They will escort you out," Vegeta repeated firmly and the two guards advanced forward. "While you are in my kingdom you shall obey my law."

"You're not my king and never will be, but very well," Zarbon said, watching with amusement the untrusting looks he received from the two guards. "Until next time then."

Vegeta's response was to grunt as Zarbon opened the door and left the meeting room as quickly as he could, leaving the guards to hurry behind him and make it look as though they were accompanying him out. Allowing himself a smile, Zarbon continued at his swift pace, listening to the hurried footsteps behind him. The smile dropped when he started to consider that Vegeta may suspect him of trying to steal something and that turned Zarbon's mood into something rather cynical. As though _he_ would have to sink so low as to steal considering the money he charged for his services. Although, if a target turned out to have something particularly valuable upon their person and it hadn't been mentioned in his brief, Zarbon saw no problem in relieving them what whatever the object was. A dead target had absolutely no use for belongings, after all.

He strode through the hallways, the walls of which were dotted here and there with paintings, guards and other objects which, while probably valuable, Zarbon had no interest in. The footsteps of the guards were still behind him and Zarbon could feel himself getting closer and closer to turning on his heel and barking at them to go the hell away. But, he reconsidered, they probably feared their king a lot more than they feared him. So he kept going, swerving off into hallways used by the palace servants. They were smaller, just wide enough for two to pass as long as they weren't holding anything particularly large, and the walls were plain. Zarbon hadn't been allowed to enter the palace through the main entrance and had only found out when a guard blocked his way and insisted upon telling him that those were his orders. A quick verbal snap at King Vegeta later had confirmed for Zarbon that, yes, those had been his orders.

The servant hallways had many more corners to them as well, having to weave the long way around the palace to reach various destinations. Different hallways continued to branch off but Zarbon knew where he was going, so he was standing outside within moments. He looked behind him as the door shut and saw that the two guards had come to a stop. Zarbon was outside so their job was done.

Just as he started to step away, eager to get as far away from the Saiyan race as a whole as quickly as possible, he heard a voice coming from above him and stopped. It said:

"Well, well. Did the king start collecting concubines again?"

"What?" Zarbon spat as he whirled around and glared up towards the source of the voice. It was the most _infuriating_ looking Saiyan he had ever seen. He was large and bulked with muscle, just like every other post-adolescent male Zarbon had seen on the planet. He wore Saiyan armour, again like many he had seen, and there was nothing striking about it. What Zarbon did find his eyesight drawn to was the Saiyan's hair. There was probably more of that than the Saiyan's entire body mass. It didn't look very well kept, messed and sticking out all over the place and Zarbon had no idea why anybody with standards of personal appearance like _that_ had any right at all to smirk down at _him_.

"I've seen some of them pass by," the Saiyan continued. The doorway to the servant's entrance was shadowed by a tiny porch and the Saiyan was sat upon the roof of that, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded. His tail dangled over the roof, swinging back and forth. "You're by far the most interesting looking. But what's with leaving now? Didn't the king know you were a male? Is that why he sent you away? Or are you some freakish half and half? Come on, I'd like to know."

It was so horrifically tempting for Zarbon to just reach up and pull that swinging tail away from the body it was attached to. But he managed to remind himself that he was now under contract with the king of Saiyans, so now was not the best of times to go around mutilating his subjects. So instead he just clenched his fists, tightened his jaw and asked, "who do you think you're talking to?"

"You didn't hear me first time?" The Saiyan leaned forward and said, with his voice deliberately louder and slower; "Are. You. The. King's. Latest. Whore?"

For a second Zarbon couldn't see, blinded by his own intense fury. He had _never_ been so insulted in his whole life. And he knew _Jeice_, dammit! When his vision came back, he was intensely disappointed to find the Saiyan still alive and well, continuing to sit on the small porch roof with his tail hanging over the edge, looking arrogantly pleased with himself. Images of all the things Zarbon would like to inflict upon the Saiyan quickly flashed through his mind's eye, each one becoming more satisfyingly violent. Instead of acting upon one of them, which he wanted so badly to do, he dug his fingernails into his palms, feeling the quick sting of discomfort as he sliced his own skin and drew blood. His jaw tightened, his teeth gritted and, while he did nothing to hide his angry expression, Zarbon said; "my business with your king isn't your concern at all. But it is _nothing_ even vaguely linked to what you're suggesting. Understand?"

That would be considering this Saiyan had a brain and Zarbon felt he was being extremely generous by vaguely assuming so.

"Calling it secret business isn't exactly convincing, you know," the Saiyan remarked and Zarbon gave up any assumptions of him having even the slightest hint of anything which may somewhat resemble intellect. "What does something like you go for?"

"Even if I did have a price," which, of course, Zarbon did _not_, "there is absolutely no way, in any sort of life at all, you'd be able to even put a down payment on it!"

"Challenge, is that?"

Of course! It was all about who had the most chips in their armour as far as Saiyans were concerned. Upon deciding that enough was enough, Zarbon granted the Saiyan one last extremely icy glare and stormed away. As he swiftly left, he could still hear comments being aimed at him but didn't quite catch their exact content due to his anger making his ears ring.

Why had he even bothered stopping to look at the Saiyan, let alone open his mouth?

xxx

There was an entire long list of things Dodoria would rather be doing at that moment and the more he thought about it the longer it grew. Picking off his skin bit by bit with some small tweezers. Gouging a pen into his eyeballs. Seeing which poisons would do what exactly if inserted as suppository. Digging his ears out with a rusty fork. And so on. He was in his own home, which made it worse. And he was on the other side of the room from the door and the freedom which lay beyond it, which made it much worse.

What kept him from leaving was Zarbon, who was practically pacing a hole in the floor as he stalked from one end of the room to the other, then back again. As he built up his mental list, Dodoria kept a weary eye on Zarbon, particularly where his hands were. Zarbon was clearly in one of those bad moods where he was extremely liable to inflict severe pain upon anyone and throw anything his hands touched. But, so far, Zarbon's fists remained clenched by his sides with the knuckles pale. From what Dodoria had managed to get out, the business Zarbon had upon Vegetasei had gone well. But Zarbon still remained furious and it wasn't long at all until Dodoria heard all about why.

"It's bad enough their king has a rod shoved so far up his backside he's coughing splinters. But when I leave there's another one, sitting there on the roof looking like the worst hair day in the history of existence! And he has the nerve to keep making comments about me being some sort of whore!"

Dodoria had been there in the past to hear comments of that sort directed at Zarbon. So he found it rather amazing that the Saiyan was still alive.

"As soon as I'm done," Zarbon went on, "he had better still be sitting there. I'll rip off that stupid tail of his and thread it through his ears. Then I'll burn that stupid insulting rug of hair of his to ashes. Then I'll scatter them over the ground. Then I'll blow up the ground."

Zarbon stopped his ranting and slowed his pace to a halt a few seconds later. Now that he was silent the room seemed far too quiet. Dodoria was just mentally debating with himself on whether or not it was safe to try speaking when;

"How," Zarbon sighed, "did that race ever develop and maintain a working monarchy?"

"You're the one who took the job," Dodoria ventured. "You knew what the Saiyans would probably be like."

Zarbon gave him a glare which largely suggested this wasn't what he had wanted to hear.

"Why are you here twisting my ear about it?" Dodoria tried. "The sooner you go and do whatever job you've been given, the sooner the contract is finished, the sooner you never have to go back again."

There was another it-should-be-obvious look from Zarbon. "What's the point in having a sometimes-comrade if I can't come and bitch at you every now and again?"

"_Every now and again_?" Oh _that_ was rich!

xxx

Guilt was something Zarbon had heard about. His basic understanding of such an emotion was being aware of wrongdoing and feeling shame concerning it. Zarbon himself only ever got as far as being aware of wrongdoing, or at least what many considered it to be. Making murder into a living wasn't exactly reputable or admired. But it was what Zarbon was good at and he would continue to do so until either he died or there was absolutely nobody left willing to hand over vast amounts of money for a dead body. He knew it would be the former.

As for feeling shame about it, that certainly didn't happen. As long as he completed the task he was given and received the agreed amount of money for it, that was fine with him.

The lack of guilt in any form whatsoever was also why Zarbon didn't mind killing a target should they have their back turned, were sick or asleep. The latter was the state the current target was in when Zarbon found him, on the small planet King Vegeta had named and handed over the co-ordinates to. As well as a small planet, it was a barren one. The vegetation was minimal, the air was cold and so far the only other signs of life Zarbon had seen where small creatures living in the cracks in the rocks and under the dust upon the ground. It was just the sort of place one might expect an exile to be sent.

Paragus. That was the exiles name and he was found in one of the caves which time and the elements had worn into the mountains. Zarbon didn't know the exact details of the exile but guessed it was probably something to do with severely displeasing the king. Such was often the reason. His back was to Zarbon when silently approached and when he didn't react it was supposed he was either asleep for waiting for an opportunity to attack. Sometimes they anticipated him coming and would try to catch him off guard, only to always fail miserably. But Zarbon doubted this was one of those cases. Paragus was sleeping and there was the baby curled up by his side.

Sometimes Zarbon enjoyed toying with a target. If they were asleep, sometimes they were woken up. Then Zarbon would amuse himself for a while, breaking fingers, twisting ears off, beating internal organs into dysfunction, and so on. If the client wanted a part of the target brought back, (it was often the head), it was left untouched. Otherwise, everything was fair game.

This would not be one of those times. Zarbon was keen to get things over and done with as soon as possible.

One ki blast carefully aimed from the palm of Zarbon's hand and through the target's chest, incinerating the heart, and it was done. The baby began to stir but never woke. Zarbon pointed his index finger towards it, curling the rest into his palm, and the baby's heart was also destroyed.

xxx

King Vegeta heard a commotion outside, which sounded as though it was getting nearer and nearer.

"King Vegeta will not see you!" a voice shouted.

"He will!" Retorted another.

"If you dare even touch those doors-"

"You'll do what? Why do you Saiyans continue to insist you're any sort of match for me?"

And then the doors burst open. The guards stood by them moved to try and force them shut again, but were knocked back. A furious Zarbon stood in the doorway. More guards were behind him, looking tense and alert but lingering back.

"I'm collecting my debt now, Vegeta," he said, advancing into the room, ignoring the protests of those around the table, focusing only upon the king at the head of it, as usual. "We both know you can pay it."

"I am in the middle of important business," Vegeta said. Since the commotion had started, he hadn't turned his head and still looked directly ahead of him.

"And you may resume as soon as ours is completed."

"You will leave now."

"What _is_ it with you Saiyans and your damn superiority complex? I _know_ you have the means of completing my payment. What has me stumped is why you refuse to hand it over. But I am not leaving this planet until you do."

Vegeta turned to look at Zarbon, absolutely furious, and as he stood he almost knocked over his chair. It was only the weight of the thing which prevented it from clattering to the floor. "You absolutely will _not_."

"You'll find I shall."

"I absolutely forbid it!" King Vegeta thundered.

"You will never be my superior, Vegeta. I will die before ever bowing to a Saiyan," said Zarbon. "I've completed my end of the deal, so I'll wait for you to complete yours. You can send one of your lackeys to find me when you decide to finish my payment."

Vegeta growled. "And where do you think you're going to squat while you're waiting?"

"Every being has a price and that includes you Saiyans," Zarbon replied. "I'll easily be able to meet most of them. You know how to get me off your planet, Vegeta. Come and find me when you come to your senses."

Zarbon left, tossing his head to throw his braid from where it had fallen over his shoulder to down his back as he did. The guards who had tried to prevent Zarbon entering the room watched him go, unsure whether or now they should go after him. They looked towards their king for orders, only to find him with gritted teeth and eyes practically smouldering with rage. Upon seeing such a thing, the guards stepped back.

xxx

Nappa wasn't quite sure why he spent those rare and quick pieces of free time sat in the shade on the roof of the palace, next to the small porch roof where Raditz would sit and often harass anybody who came out. It was probably something to do with Raditz being an old training partner and comrade in battles when he had been younger, despite some things changing. Things like Nappa's strength rocketing which allowed him to become a royal guard and Raditz being left in the shadows in comparison, no matter how hard he tried to catch up. While King Vegeta was in his meeting and the prince had been ordered to his studies, (as far as Nappa could recall, they were on the fifth frustrated tutor), he wasn't needed. On the bright side, he got to rest like this.

There was a sudden vibration underneath him as the servant's door was opened and then slammed shut again. Nappa only just had time to look down and see that guy King Vegeta had ordered to him, (the hell was his name? Ah, who cared?), take off into the air and fly quickly away.

"Ah, he came back," Raditz said, watching the fading ki trail vanish into the distance.

"What?" Nappa blinked, looking to Raditz, who was sat a few inches below him. "You've met that guy?"

"Saw him come out of that door before," Raditz replied. "Hey, you know a bit more about the palace than me. What's he around for? Some sort of concubine or whore? Guy looking like that could easily be one."

"I don't know what he's on this planet for, but I wouldn't have thought it was for anything like that? The hell did you say to him? I've heard some of the servants are thinking of banding together and complaining about you, you know."

Raditz shrugged. "All I did was ask what a guy like him was doing around here and put in my own offer."

"I'll bet he told you to fuck off."

Raditz grinned and the tip of his tail twitched. "He's just playing hard to get."

_**END**_


End file.
